


Time Honored Tradition

by eiluned



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Post Avengers Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:51:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve didn’t know why he was surprised to find the two of them drinking themselves into oblivion; getting shitfaced was a time honored tradition when soldiers got back from a mission, and if any mission deserved a bottle or two of booze, it was the battle of New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Honored Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago but only posted it to my tumblr for some reason. So here it is on AO3!

"You know I can’t get drunk, right?"

Barton was already three sheets to the wind, by the look of him, and Natasha’s hand was just a bit unsteady as she poured three shots of vodka. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised to find the two of them drinking themselves into oblivion; getting shitfaced was a time honored tradition when soldiers got back from a mission, and if any mission deserved a bottle or two of booze, it was the battle of New York.

Steve wished he could get drunk after everything that happened. And he hadn’t even had to deal with Loki turning his brain inside out. He also hadn’t lost a long-time friend, and in the days since the battle, Steve had found out that Barton and Romanoff and Coulson had gone way back. It was bad to lose a good man, but it was even worse when that good man was a good friend.

He pushed the memory of Bucky falling to the back of his mind, like he usually did when it resurfaced.

"Doesn’t matter," Barton said, his words slurred a bit. "Have a drink anyway, Cap."

With a sigh, Steve dropped into the empty chair at their table and caught the shot glass that Natasha slid his way. “To… to… the eventual possibility that I’ll get to play target practice with Loki’s head,” Barton said, sloshing a little vodka out of his glass as he clinked it against Steve’s and then Natasha’s.

"Иди на хуй, Loki," Natasha said, tossing her shot back.

Steve looked into his glass, not really seeing the clear liquid. He remembered sitting in that blasted out bar in London, desperately trying to drink away the pain of losing his best friend. He hadn’t lost anything like that in New York, but the two people across the table had.

He watched Barton drift off into thought, his mouth turning down into a scowl, and Steve knew he was reliving everything that had happened. Natasha knew, too; Steve still wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but it was obvious they could read each other like a book, and it was especially obvious that they cared for each other as much as he had loved Bucky. It dawned on him that they had nearly lost each other, and he wondered if he and Bucky would have had a drinking session like this one if that bar had just held.

Barton didn’t react at first when Natasha reached over and put her hand on his forearm, but after a second, he shifted so he could enclose her hand in both of his.

Steve tossed back his vodka, coughing at the burn in his throat and the bitter ache of missing friends long gone.


End file.
